


Coyote Blazes a Trail

by gardnerhill



Series: Tales From Wind-Goes-Through-It Lodge [4]
Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe - Animals, Episode: s02e01 North, Folklore, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 21:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16668607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill
Summary: The due South episode "North" as a folktale.





	Coyote Blazes a Trail

Old Man Coyote is a glutton, a thief and a trickster.  He never hunts when he can steal, never steals when he can trick, and never tricks when he can lie.  His powerful belly-magic and his mischief is the reason so many things in the world seem so crazy; he has the power to change things.  His cousin Wolf is a good, sober hunter, handsome and brave and of few words.  But there was a time when Wolf had to rely on his sneaking cousin for an act of bravery, when both of them were in great danger.

 

It was once told!

 

Wolf lived in his clan-brother Coyote's den, within the great lodge Wind-Goes-Through-It, which was on the edge of a great lake. Wolf had been driven from the land of the north, the land where it is always snow, by the other wolves who were angry with him; he was now in exile in the land of the south, but his cousin had given him a home in his own den.  Through one turn of events and another (a long story for another time), Wolf had a fine litter of wolf-pups who rolled and played with Coyote's uncountable pups.  In addition to Wolf and Coyote and all their pups, Coyote's den was home for his mother Dam Coyote, his sour wife Coyote-woman, and his grown brothers and sisters; that was a lot of people in that den, and the clan-brothers spent much of their waking time hunting and fishing to feed everyone.

 

Mighty Bear, a powerful and bad-tempered creature, fished where he would in the river that ran through the middle of that giant lodge — but he no longer bothered Coyote or his clan when they fished in the river, because of a trick Coyote had played; Bear had lost his plumed tail to that thief and was bitterly reminded of his defeat every time he saw a plumed Wolf-tail or Coyote-tail or Fox-tail waving gaily in the air.  (But that is a long story for another time.)  All of the other creatures in Wind-Goes-Through-It were too afraid of Bear to fish in the river, but mighty Bear was too afraid of scrawny Coyote to stop him.

 

But Bear's hatred for Coyote and his people was still in his heart, and even his fear of Coyote's madness could not keep it quiet.  He resolved to destroy Coyote and his brave cousin Wolf, but he needed someone else to do his cruel work for him; even the cold and wicked Otter-spirits who guarded the river from others' fishing were now as frightened of Coyote as he was.  So he invited his cousin Wolverine to visit him, and they had a parley in Bear's den. It was then that Bear asked Wolverine to kill Coyote for him.

 

"I have no quarrel with that ugly thief, clan-brother," Wolverine said to Bear.  "He steals kills now and then, but who doesn't?"  Wolverine was a glutton and a thief himself, who often stole kills from smaller weaker creatures. "And what good would it do me to kill Coyote?  Everyone knows that he has the power to return to life — if anyone steps over his body five times he will be as good as new."

 

"Then you must kill Coyote and make sure no one steps over his body, ever," Bear said angrily.  "Then he cannot come back to life.  Kill Wolf any way you want, but be especially careful about removing Coyote."

 

"Why don't you ask Owl-woman for help?" Wolverine sneered. "Surely she would gladly do your bidding, because she hates Wolf." Owl-woman was even more wicked than the great bully Bear, and an eater of children; Wolf, the protector of children, was her mortal enemy.

 

"I have already asked her," Bear snarled.  "She has already run up against the two of them, and will have nothing more to do with either Wolf or Coyote, or their families.  She no longer threatens the children of the north or the south, because of what happened."  (But that is a long story for another time.)

 

"So, you wish me to endanger my life and end the lives of these two, who have already defeated Bear and Owl-woman," Wolverine said slyly, sharpening his claws against the stone floor of Bear's den and making a terrible screeching sound that hurt Bear's ears.  "This is not beyond my means, dear brother."

 

Bear glared at his ill-mannered clan-brother, but said nothing. Wolverine's cousins Weasel and Mink had taught him every sly and cruel trick they knew — and he was as broad and strong and as heavily toothed and clawed as Bear.  He was nearly as big as Bear. He was a formidable enemy, and he knew it.

 

"What will you pay me to rid you of these creatures?" Wolverine insisted.  "I must have my payment first, or I will return to my own den tonight.  And I must be paid whether I succeed or not."

 

Bear had thought about this for a long time; he knew how greedy his cousin was, but he was desperate to be rid of the mad trickster and his stout-hearted cousin.  "From now on, clan-brother," he said, "you may steal kills from all hunting creatures, no matter how big or strong —even the kills of the new People, the two-legs.  Even my own kills will not be safe from you."

 

The glutton grinned and licked his chops.  "I accept the payment, cousin!"

 

Bear would have simply attacked the clan-brothers straight out; but Wolverine was sly and clever.  For a few days Wolverine lay low in a den not far from the Coyote den and watched the cousins go back and forth, hunting together.  He followed them on their hunts through Wind-Goes-Through-It and watched, unseen.  He saw that Wolf did most of the hunting, and Coyote's main contribution was a trick or two that lured the game within easy reach.  He saw that Wolf's keen eyes usually spotted game before Coyote did, and Wolf's strong legs carried him far and bore up under the heaviest carcasses they dragged back to feed the swarms of coyotes in the den.  He sneered to himself that Wolf was an idiot for doing all the hard work for Coyote, so foolish that he laughed and joked and sang hunting songs with the lazy thief.  (Wolverine did not know that the sober Wolf had never laughed nor joked nor sang in his life until he had become friends with Coyote.)

 

One time a great boulder, part of a deadfall trap, fell upon Coyote and crushed him dead; Wolverine saw Wolf push the boulder off his dead cousin with his great strength and step over the crushed body five times.  Coyote sprang up, alive and good as new, and was taunted by Wolf for getting caught in his own trap as they headed to the river for a drink.

 

Wolverine knew the warrior Wolf was a dangerous fighter, but Coyote could not kill in battle.  Wolverine decided to kill Wolf first, and then wound and harry and exhaust Coyote all the way to the lake.  There he would kill the cowardly thief and throw his body in the lake; the little fish would eat him, and his bones would settle in the deepest part of the water where no one would be able to step over them five times.  He put his plan into action.

 

The next day, before following the cousins on their hunting rounds, Wolverine disguised himself by painting white stripes down his dark brown back, so that he looked like Skunk.  Now Skunk breaks wind all the time — phew!  So he does not have any friends.  But he is a friendly, cheerful fellow nonetheless; he has no enemies, and he is a danger to no one but frogs and fish and lizards.

 

Wolverine followed Coyote and Wolf until they were far from the den and very close to the entrance of the great lodge.  Then he rolled in the dust to look haggard and travel-weary, hunched his shoulders and crouched his legs to make himself look smaller, and approached them panting for breath as if he'd run a long way.

 

Coyote laughed and wrinkled his nose when he saw who was approaching.  "Ya-hey, clan-brother, this one makes a bigger wind than our lodge chief!"

 

"So you are here, Brother Skunk," Wolf said politely, with never a comment about Skunk's odor.

 

"Great hunters," Wolverine gasped, "I need your help!  My poor wife and our kits went outside the lodge to look for shellfish by the lakeshore, and Owl-woman pounced on them all and carried them off!  I followed her as far and as fast as I could, but that wicked child-eater was soon out of sight!  Oh, my wife!  My poor children!"

 

Coyote growled and shook his head.  Wolf did not change his expression, but his tail lifted high in the air and all the hair down his back hackled in anger.  Both of them had excellent reason to hate Owl-woman.

 

"Please, great warriors," Wolverine whimpered.  "I am only poor old Skunk, with short legs and teeth.  I cannot track down one as swift as Owl-woman — and how can I fight her, lift my tail and break wind in her direction?  I can show you where she went.  Oh, please help me!"

 

"On my back, Brother," Wolf said instantly, and bore up under the heavy load as Wolverine hopped onto Wolf's broad back.  "She can't have gone far with so many in her talons.  If we hurry, we can find her before she harms your kits."  And Wolf bounded out of Wind-Goes-Through-It, Coyote fast behind him; the two cousins ran like their lodge-chief Wind himself.

 

Wolverine sobbed and begged and whimpered as he indicated where the two should run, and did not forget to keep breaking wind as part of his disguise.  Soon Wolf and Coyote and Wolverine were far from the giant lodge, far around the edge of the lake, and deep into the forest that lined the lake.  Far from the lakeshore they ran, until the trees were so thick that the cousins had to push their way through one at a time, and could not move easily.

 

Only then did Wolverine act.  He raised his front paw, armed with claws like Bear's.  He struck at Wolf's eyes and blinded him. Even as Wolf howled in pain, Wolverine jumped off Wolf's back and seized his back legs in his teeth, one after the other. His jaws and teeth were as powerful as Bear's; he broke Wolf's legs as if they were dry sticks.  Blinded and crippled as he was, Wolf tried to turn around in that dense forest growth to face his enemy.  Wolverine grinned and lunged at Wolf's unprotected throat.

 

But Coyote had learned bravery from Wolf the way Wolf had learned laughter from Coyote.  The enraged Coyote threw a stone hard and hit Wolverine's head.  Howling in pain himself, Wolverine skittered through the undergrowth to get away even as Coyote pelted him with more stones, shouting "Glutton!  Skunk-Bear!  Wear your skunk-stripes forever, you stinking thief!"

 

Wolverine ran fast, limping a little from some of the stones that had hit his legs.  Snarling in hate, he realized that he had all but accomplished his task; Wolf was badly hurt and neither he nor Coyote knew this forested area.  They were far from the lake and would probably die of thirst before long.  But Wolverine decided to stay close to the lake.  If they emerged, then he would attack them again.  And he wanted Coyote dead, for hitting him with stones.

 

Coyote dragged his wounded cousin out of the thick undergrowth by the tail and whimpered to see the ruin where Wolf's clear blue eyes had been.  And both of Wolf's back legs were broken so that they bent forward instead of back; both were useless.  Wolf panted in pain and exhaustion; his tongue lolled out.

 

"If my mother were here, she'd fix these right away," Coyote said, licking Wolf's eye-sockets clean.  "We'll have to go back to Wind-Goes-Through-It, and she'll make sure you can see again." Coyote managed to get both of them out of the worst of the undergrowth.  Only then did he look around, and realize that they were lost.  He could neither see nor smell water; they were far from the lake.  And they had run so far and fast that Wind-Goes-Through-It was nowhere to be seen.  "Ai yai yai, cousin, this doesn't look familiar," Coyote said.

 

"Pick me up, clan-brother," the blind Wolf said hoarsely.  "Let me smell where we are."  So Coyote picked up Wolf, grunting and complaining about his weight, and Wolf lifted his nose up to sniff the wind and the growth.  "I don't smell water near.  We ran too far from the lake.  And these are new trees to me.  No one has marked territory here in a long time."

 

"No, nor any game," Coyote whimpered as he set Wolf back down; he saw no squirrels nor rabbits nearby.  The only living things besides themselves seemed to be the white grubs that wriggled all over the floor of the forest.  "Nothing but these little mouse-tails for us to eat.  Come, at least we can fill our bellies with these wrigglers."

 

Wolf shook his head at the thought of such a brave hunter as himself reduced to eating grubs like a songbird.  But he was very hungry.  So he and Coyote licked up all the grubs that lay everywhere on the ground; only the ones hiding under the rocks and deep in the rotten wood of fallen trees were saved from their predations, and to this day grubs are only found in those places.

 

"That's better," Coyote said cheerfully, and even belched. "Now we find water, and go back home."

 

"But which direction is home?  And which direction is water? How will we find them?" asked Wolf.

 

"We go looking, that's how!" Coyote said.  With that he took Wolf's tail in his mouth and began walking, dragging his blind cousin behind him through the woods.

 

Coyote dragged Wolf for a long time.  And everywhere he dragged Wolf became a path through that forest. When Wolf's tail caught in a split rock, Coyote pulled so hard the boulder split in two, one on each side of the path.  Coyote scratched some trees to mark where they'd been, the rest he left alone; that's why some trees are rough-barked and some are smooth-barked.  He pissed against the hemlock and cedar to mark his path, and that is why they must grow close to water ever since.

 

Coyote laughed and joked and teased.  "Cousin, did I ever tell you about the time I lost _my_ eyes?  It's true, I once had eyes as blue as yours, and I could throw them high in the air to see game for miles, then I'd whistle them back into my head.  One day, while they were in the air, that damn Bluejay flew by and stole them!  I blundered home somehow, and Mother stuck a couple of lumps of pine-pitch in my eye-sockets and they've worked fine ever since.  That's why my eyes are yellow now."  In this way, Coyote's chatter made the ordeal a little easier for both of them.

 

But soon it was a terrible time for them both.  They had no water, and could only gnaw the grass to fill their bellies.  Day became night became day became night and still there was no sign of the lake nor anything to eat.  And it was hard for Coyote to drag Wolf everywhere.

 

Some time during a day, Coyote let go of Wolf and sat down, his head between his paws while Wolf fell into a listless doze.  For one of the few times in his long life, Coyote was in despair.  Wolf's spit was frothing at his mouth and Coyote's own swollen tongue was hanging out of his mouth.  If they did not have water that very day they would die.  He had carried his cousin so far and now they were about to die, far from anyone who would revive them.  He was not used to being brave and helping his clan-brother, and it soon would all be for nothing.

 

He looked at his brave warrior cousin, panting and ribs showing, and wondered if a warrior's spirit would aid a fellow warrior.

 

So Coyote sat and made a prayer.  He summoned a powerful spirit, a ghost of a great warrior.  That ghost was none other than Wolf's father, Old Wolf.

 

"So you are here, Trickster," Old Wolf's spirit said crossly. He was now a splendid star in the sky and did not like being summoned for mere matters of the living.  "What are you doing here on the ground?  Why aren't you fetching and carrying for Old Man Above?  He didn't like the way you ruined the animals' star-pictures, eh?"

 

Coyote didn't like being reminded of the time he threw the stars across the heavens rather than help the animals finish their star-pictures (that is why the star-pictures are so vague and crude, and why there's a big splash of stars right down the middle of the night sky).  "Listen, old flea-scratcher," Coyote snapped.  "Your son Wolf and I are in terrible danger right now.  We may die alone out here, where no one will bring us back to life.  I don't want to die, and neither does your son!"

 

"Death is for the living to worry about," yawned Old Wolf.  "I taught my son everything he knows, he's a great hunter and tracker. If what I taught him while alive can't help him, nothing I teach him dead will help either."

 

"Your son is blinder than my first wife Mole!  He can't even move his legs!  I am the one who is hunting and tracking now — teach ME so that we can find water!"

 

"I can teach you nothing, Trickster," Old Wolf said sternly. "You are a thief, not a hunter.  And you are far older than I."  And Old Wolf faded away like mist and was gone, back to the sky.  Coyote snarled after the unhelpful old ghost.

 

But what Old Wolf had said was true.  And Coyote had to do something that was very hard for him to do — he had to think.  So he thought, while his tongue lolled out from thirst and the blind crippled Wolf whimpered in a bad dream.

 

It was true — Coyote was older than Old Wolf.  But he wasn't good at being heroic.

 

And then Coyote sat straight up and laughed out loud at having forgotten himself.  Of course he wasn't a hero!  He was Old Man Coyote, Coyote the Thief — Coyote the Trickster!  He was no warrior.  He was Coyote-Who-Changes-Things!

 

Without another second, Coyote strode over to a willow tree, cocked his leg, and pissed. That instantly became a river of good clean water tumbling over its new banks and rushing past the weary travelers.  Wolf's ears pricked up at the roaring, chuckling sound of the water.  "Ho, cousin, we're not dying today!" Coyote said cheerfully, and dragged Wolf into the shallows so that they could both drink.

 

The willow leaves overhanging the river fell into the water and became tiny fish—fingerling salmon—swimming away.  Coyote plunged deep and ate as many as he could, but most escaped.  Coyote was still hungry, and yelled at them, "Come back here!  Come back here!"

 

"We are too little and young for you to eat, Old Man!" the tiny salmon called. "We are going to the sea to live and grow big."

 

"Then you will come back here when you are big and fat!" Coyote shouted, angry at them for leaving.  "And whether I eat you or not, you will die here just the same!"  And so it is that the tiny salmon swim to the sea — but when they are adults they return to the river to be eaten, and to die.

 

"Where there is a river," Wolf said, shaking the water from his coat, "there is a source.  If we go upstream, we'll find the lake, clan-brother!"

 

Coyote stared at Wolf for a second.  "I knew that," he snapped. And Coyote went upstream, still dragging Wolf; in less time than it takes for an afternoon sleep they were at the shore of the lake. "Ya-hey, I'm a mighty tracker!" the boastful trickster sang.

 

From the lake, Loon saw little skinny Coyote emerge from the forest dragging big strong Wolf by the tail, and she laughed so hard at the sight that she is still laughing today.

 

Wolf sniffed the air, and on his blind face was a look of pleasure.  "We're only a day or two from Wind-Goes-Through-It, cousin."

 

And sure enough, from where they were Coyote could see the very tip-top of the giant lodge. "Yes, I know where we are now!"  He took Wolf's tail in his mouth to once again drag his clan-brother home.

 

"And I know where you are too!" snarled a voice from the woods. And Wolverine, skunk-striped and huge and angry, stepped from the trees to stand between Coyote and his path home.  "I am going to kill you both, and no one will revive you, ever."

 

Wolf, blind and crippled, shivered in fear and anger.  He could not fight, nor could Coyote.  Both of them were no match for Bear's treacherous cousin.

 

But Coyote laughed and let go of Wolf's tail. "Go ahead and eat this one yourself, Skunk-Bear," he chuckled. "To tell you the truth, I'm tired of dragging this great lump of meat everywhere.  Besides, I've got better eating here.  I have a piece of dried salmon cached here somewhere.  Go ahead and have Wolf, he's all yours."

 

Of course dried salmon is the best of all foods, and greedy Wolverine salivated at the thought of eating that, after long days of grubs and mice, waiting for these two to reappear.  "Show me where you have the salmon, and maybe I will let you live," he said craftily.  His long sharp bear's-claws dug into the sand.

 

"Oh, no, old Skunk, I've had enough of your company," Coyote snapped, and turned his back on Wolverine to trot through the forest.  "Do me a favor and kill that lazy cousin of mine, I'm not dragging him back with me!"

 

The furious Wolverine completely ignored the helpless Wolf and tore after Coyote into the woods.  He pinned Coyote to the ground with one big paw and snarled, "Take me to the dried salmon, or I will kill you now."

 

"All right, all right, don't hurt me, mighty hunter Wolverine, I'll do what you say," whimpered Coyote; he flattened his ears, curled his tail between his legs and grinned up at the glutton. "I'll show you where I've hidden it."

 

Despising the coward, Wolverine took Coyote's tail in his teeth to make sure he didn't run away as they moved through the trees.

 

After a few twists and turns, Coyote found a little overhang of branches.  And sure enough, there was a chunk of the delicious-smelling dried salmon just visible through the leaves.  "I've changed my mind, I'll eat it now," Coyote said.

 

The enraged Wolverine, half mad with greed at the wonderful smell and with rage at the trickster, let go of Coyote's tail and pushed him aside, snatching up the chunk of salmon for himself before Coyote could reach it.

 

That piece of dried salmon was the bait in Coyote's deadfall trap.  Down came a big boulder and crushed Wolverine flat!  Yelping in glee, Coyote high-tailed it back to the shore, leaving the cruel creature howling in pain and cursing under the big stone.

 

Taking up Wolf's tail once again, Coyote blithely dragged his cousin back to the lodge, singing a rude song about greedy Skunk-Bear and making Wolf laugh.  When they finally reached Wind-Goes-Through-It and came back to Coyote's den, Dam Coyote stuck two lumps of pine pitch in Wolf's eye sockets; he could see again, and his eyes were now the same yellow color as Coyote's.  His broken legs mended and were soon as good as new, except that they bent forward instead of backward; all wolves' back legs bend forward now.

 

Wolverine finally dug his way free of the crushing stone with his big claws.  But the damage was done.  Wolverine has been as flat as Badger ever since—and he has to wear his skunk-stripes forever.

 

But of course Bear got the worst of it.  Not only had his scheme failed to remove Coyote and Wolf, but he was obligated to pay his angry cousin despite his failure.  To this day, no hunting animal — not even a bear — will oppose a wolverine that steals away its kill.

 

But Bear had managed one little trick against his greedy cousin.  He had neglected to tell Wolverine that the new People, the two-legs, would not let him steal kills without fighting back with their bows and spears and knives, far stronger and longer and sharper than any wolverine's teeth and claws.  So it is true that a wolverine can steal kills from the People — but the People can and will kill the ones that do.  Wolverine fur makes the best lining for parkas' hoods; it is the one thing the gluttons are good for.


End file.
